


And Promises Will Fall

by alacarton



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8316841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alacarton/pseuds/alacarton
Summary: “The rest of the school is welcome to him.” She huffed, folding her arms as she turned up her nose. “He’s an arrogant, cocky pig-”“Ahem.”“And if he spent half as much time studying as he does flirting with anything with a pulse-”“Ahem.”“Then he wouldn’t need to interrupt my evenings with his insufferable, smug grin on that ugly face and stupid questions from that thick head of his-”“Riza.” Rebecca’s voice was a low hiss, and Riza stopped to stare, raising an eyebrow, her mouth opening to ask what exactly her problem was before a familiar voice spoke from behind her, and she froze.“I’ll be sure to keep that all in mind, Miss Hawkeye.”





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally part of my 100 Royai prompts on Tumblr, posted under @ohsnapsnapsparkspark. I had quite a few requests to turn this into an actual fic, and it has started to grow arms and legs as I have been writing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Riza enjoyed her quiet evenings, sat in the warmth of the large living room of her father’s home, curtains drawn, fire happily crackling away. She had grown used to her father’s absence, save for the odd noise from behind the study door, and there was something incredibly settling about the silence of the large house. She would sit at the oak table, curled in a warm jumper, and study in the glow of the fire, drinking in any and every book she could lay her hands on. 

Her phone vibrated against the table, catching her attention, and she lifted it to see a picture message from Rebecca, immediately laughing at the ridiculous face her best friend had graced her with, complete with puppy ears. She turned the camera on herself with a chuckle, finger flicking through the filters, grinning as she did.

A loud knock at the door broke the spell of her peace, causing her to pause in her picture taking. She waited, hoping whoever it was would give up in their quest to pester her. There was another knock, and she scowled at the door, before placing her phone down, sliding from her chair, crossing the hallway to pull it open, and immediately she felt her heart sink at the figure on her doorstep.

_“_ Is this the Hawkeye household?” She didn’t reply; _he knew the damn answer._ He waited expectantly, before throwing a hand out to her with a grin.

_“_ Roy Mustang. You’re Riza, right?” Her eyes roamed over him, bundled up against the cold of the night, and she _hated_  everything she saw, from the familiar dark hair, to stupid grin, to the scuffed boots on his feet. 

“I know exactly who you are.” The coolness in her voice made him flinch. “Why on _earth_  are you stood at my door, Roy Mustang?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Miss Hawkeye.” The smirk that appeared on his face was _infuriating_ , and she curled her fingers into a fist, anger whispering at her to wipe that smug look from him. “I am here to see your father.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes with a laugh. “I highly doubt that. My father is a world-acclaimed professor of chemistry, and a highly respected chemical engineer, and he does not have time for high school students who sleep through class and have no interest in the subject, and would rather spend their time partying and-”

“Riza, is that any way to treat a guest?” Her father’s voice caught her by surprise, and she spun around to see him at the end of the corridor, eyes wide, her father’s figure cloaked in his usual robes, dark eyes watching them. “Mister Mustang is here to study. Come, please forgive my daughter’s rudeness.”

She continued to stare at her father as Roy stepped past her into the house, turning to shoot her a grin as he followed the man down the hallway, before being stopped in his tracks, a large stack of books placed in his arms. “Basic reading for you. You can sit with Riza tonight, and study these. I expect you to have grasped the very basics of these for tomorrow. Otherwise, do not bother to return.” The study door was closed in his face, Roy blinking in surprise, and it was Riza’s turn to grin smugly as closed the door, and she sat back at her chair, picking up her book once more. 

“Is he always like that?”

“He doesn’t like time wasters.” He laughed at her short reply, stumbling over to the table with the large pile of books, Riza raising her eyebrow. “Do you need help with those?

“It’s not heavy, I’m stronger than I look.” She scoffed at his reply, eyes narrowing as he sat opposite her at the large table, spreading the books before him. “I see your opinion of me is high, Miss Hawkeye.”

“I don’t like time wasters either.” 

“I’m not a time waster.” His voice had a hint of firmness in it, and she watched him for a moment, his dark eyes on her. “I want to study chemistry, especially chemical engineering. That’s why I need to pass this class, and your father is-”

“All of my father’s students turn out to be disappoints, one way or another.” She scowled at him, before burying her head back into her book, choosing to ignore whatever his next words were in favour of making notes, sighing loudly to cover it. Roy Mustang was _not_  interfering in her quiet night, and she was sure as hell not being _friendly_  with him. 

\- - - - -

“So he-”

“Yes.”

“And you-”

“ _Yes.”_

“You and  _Roy Mustang_ -”

“ Rebecca-”

“ _At your house!”_

_“Rebecca_!” She elbowed her as she hissed, fork prodded towards her face in warning. “Keep your damn voice down.”

“Well, I was just saying. This is a surprise.” The brunette’s smug grin was all too clear. “You react so quickly when I mention him, you know.”  
  
“Do I? I hadn’t noticed. Maybe it’s the irritation.” She refused to bite, before grinning back at the other girl. “Although I have noticed Jean Havoc staring at you every lunch break this week.”  
  
“Really?” Rebecca blinked, turning slightly pink, before she scoffed, waving a hand. “Don’t you change the subject on me, Riza Hawkeye.” She pointed a finger. “This is an excellent opportunity for you to snag him for yourself. So when are you taking him on a date?”

“Absolutely _never. Ever_. Just because you seem to think he is some kind of dreamy hunk- _”_

“Yeah, just me and the  _rest of the whole damn school.”_

“The rest of the school is welcome to him.” She huffed, folding her arms as she turned up her nose. “He’s an arrogant, cocky pig-”

“Ahem.”

“And if he spent _half_  as much time studying as he does flirting with anything with a pulse-”

“ _Ahem.”_

_“_ Then he wouldn’t need to interrupt my evenings with his insufferable,smug grin on that ugly face and _stupid questions from that thick head of his_ -”

“ _Riza.”_  Rebecca’s voice as a low hiss, and Riza stopped to stare, raising an eyebrow, her mouth opening to ask what exactly her problem was before a familiar voice spoke from behind her, and she froze.

“I’ll be sure to keep that all in mind, Miss Hawkeye.”

She felt her cheeks start to burn, stomach dropping and she peeked over her shoulder to see Roy stood about a foot away, tray in hand, wearing an unreadable look on his face, an eyebrow raised. She remained wordless as he walked off, heading in the direction of his usual lunchtime table, the familiar faces of his friend group jostling him as he approached, and she turned to Rebecca, who looked as though she had just witnessed either a wedding or a funeral.

“Well. That couldn’t have gone better.”

“I didn’t know he was there!” she cried, shooting Rebecca a glare, the other girl frowning.

“He actually looked like it bothered him. I think you’ve upset him.”  
  
“No, he didn’t, don’t be so-” Rebecca’s face made her fall silent, and she huffed, stabbing her fork into the last of her pasta, feeling guilt tug at her. “Well, it’s his own damn fault. Don’t think I’ll start feeling sorry for him now. I meant what I said.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back to the phone in her hand, and Riza glanced over at the other table, before scowling back at her lunch, folding her arms. _Damn Roy Mustang._


	2. The Stiff

 

_A month_.

For the last month, three nights a week, Roy Mustang and his stupid grin had continued to show up on her doorstep, and for three nights a week, he would sit, studying opposite her, chattering away.

She would like to have been able to say that it got easier, that somehow Roy actually was easy to like, that her first impressions had been so far from correct and that there was a blossoming friendship lurking.  
  
But Riza Hawkeye was not a liar, and Roy Mustang refused to part with his sarcastic nature, and so she continued to give him the cold shoulder.  
  
She spent her time glancing over the pages of the book and taking sly snaps of him, before adding a variety of annotation and colourful language and sending them to Rebecca. She was halfway through adding a particularly fetching unibrow when he spoke, and she almost dropped her phone in shock.

“That doesn’t look like very effective studying, Miss Hawkeye, playing on your phone.”  
  
She snorted with a huff, throwing the phone down. “I am not taking study tips from _you_ _._ I make straight A’s, thank you very much. When was the last time _you_  ever got an A?”  
  
“Last week. Physics.” He didn’t even glance up, continuing to write away, and she was stumped. “And maths, the day before that.”  
  
“You’re _smart?”_ She hadn’t meant it to sound as much of a surprise as it did.

“Please, don’t sound so shocked.” He raised an eyebrow at her stare, before going back to his notes, scribbling away once more.

“You spend most of your life drinking, partying and flirting with my friends. How on earth do you find time to study?”

“I didn’t know you paid such close attention to me.”

“I _don’t”._

“Then how do you know I flirt with your friends?”

“You flirt with _everyone.”_

_“_ Am I flirting with you?”

“If you are, it is shit.”

“Ouch.” His grin widened once more. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.” She made a disgusted noise, his chuckle only serving to infuriate her further. “I take my studies quite seriously actually, _Ri-zah.”_ The emphasis on her name brought her glare back to his eyes. “But...what’s life without a little fun?” He offered her a smug grin, and she stared at it, before huffing again, lifting the book once more. “You should try it, you know. You’d be alright if you weren’t such a stiff.” He paused, glancing around, before speaking again. “Stuck in here on your own, without even brothers or sisters to keep you company, just your old man and all these books. You must get lonely, right? You should come out with us, we would-”

“You know, you’d be alright if you weren’t such an insufferably smug asshole,” she snapped back, glowering at him over the pages of her notebook, his words evidently touching a nerve. “A _nosey_  smug asshole, at that.”  
  
“ _Touchè.”_ He lifted his own phone, tapping away for a moment, before his eyes slid back to her. “What’s your number then, stiff? I was serious about you coming out with us.”  
  
She stared at him incredulously, before laughing. “What on _earth_  makes you think I will give my number to you, you are-”  
  
“An ugly, arrogant, cocky pig, with an insufferable, smug grin, who flirts with anything with a pulse. I know.” His smile dropped, face unreadable once more, and she felt the blush rise on her cheeks, swallowing harshly. 

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“I was just getting my lunch. You weren’t exactly keeping your opinions to yourself, were you?” The snap in his voice caught her by surprise, and she considered Rebecca’s previous words; _I think you upset him._ “I’m trying, here.”

_Well, to Hell with him._

“Well, don’t bother. I’m entitled to my opinions.” Her patience had snapped, and she closed her book with a snarl. “And I’m particularly entitled to my opinions when said arrogant pig spends half his life at _my_ dining room table, interrupting _my_ evenings and interfering in _my_ family. It’s _none_ of your business, and I don’t want to be _friends._ ” And with a final huff of rage, she took off down the hall, ignoring his surprised face, and stormed up the stairs, making a beeline for her room and slamming the door closed. She threw herself on her bed, burying her head into the pillow, furious screams muffled as his words bounced around her head. _Stiff._  

_To Hell with Roy Mustang._

 

* * *

It was dark when she awoke, and bleary eyes informed her she had been napping for over 3 hours, the clock now past 11pm. A whole host of messages were piled on her phone, most notably from Rebecca. She groaned as the screen’s light hit her face, the recollections of her pre-nap meltdown returning, and she bounded off of her bed, skidding to a halt at the bannister and glancing down, relief flooding her when the dining room was empty. 

Tiptoeing down the stairs, she opened the messages from Rebecca that had piled up, and she rolled her eyes as she stopped to read through them.  
  
 **[21:49] Riza, call me.**

**[22:01] Okay, no really, you need to call me.**

**[22:25] Seriously, why are you ignoring me???**

**[22:48] Are you dead or what?!!**  
  
The final message was not, however, from Rebecca, and as she opened it, a familiar, _infuriating_  name greeted her.

**[20:38] Locked the door and put the keys through the letter box. Didn’t think your dad would do it.**

Glancing at the keys sat proudly on the tiled floor, she _knew_  it had to be him and she groaned, reluctantly typing a reply. _How the hell did he have her number?_

_[23:07] Thank you._

She closed the conversation almost immediately, instead bringing up Rebecca’s messages, replying with a sigh.

_[23:08] Not dead, just napping. Long story._

Pushing herself from the stair, Riza headed into the kitchen in search of a snack, her phone vibrating almost immediately as she opened the fridge.

**[23:08] Damn right it’s a long story. What the hell did you say to Mustang? Jean says he skipped their game night and was in a funny mood, something about arguing with you. ????**

Part of her wanted to poke fun at the mention of _Jean,_ since the other girl seemed to spend her time denying ever speaking to the blonde haired boy. But she knew it would do no good, and something nagged at her. Suppose she had been right; it must have upset him.

_[23:10] He’s an arse. That’s all._

**[23:11] Did you fall out?? Riza!!**

_[23:12] Sort of, I guess._

She took a can of soda, along with a yogurt, and closed the fridge, muttering under her breath as her phone vibrated once more. _Rebecca was persistent, to say the least._

But she did not expect to see his name.

**[23:15] Didn’t mean to upset you.**

Her eyes scanned the words again, repeatedly, stunned into silence. What the hell was that supposed to mean?! _Didn’t mean to upset you._  What else had he been trying to do? Nosey, arrogant, cocky boy. 

But the voice in her heard whispered that maybe she had been too hard on him; maybe he _was_  trying to be friendly, in his own...special way. Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to come out the way it had. _Maybe he’d really not mean to upset her._

She huffed once more, taking off back up the stairs to her room, an uncomfortable mixture of annoyance and guilt licking at her.  
  
 _Damn Roy Mustang._


	3. Humble Pie

Roy didn’t turn up the next night, or the night after that. In fact, he was missing the entire week. Not a single black hair or sarcastic comment to be found in her home, and Riza revelled in the peace once more.

For the first night, anyway. By the second, guilt had started to creep into her mind, and she considered that perhaps she had been _slightly_  in the wrong. She had a tendency to be sharp with her tongue, and it was not the first time it had landed her in trouble. But worse than that, Riza found she _missed_ him. Not that she would ever admit it, but the boy’s presence had been strangely enjoyable. Not his chatter, _absolutely not_ , but just the presence of another body in the usually deserted house with her. 

 _There are worse faces to look at_ , her mind whispered sinfully in her ear, making her cringe. Goddamnit.

She had fully intended on forgetting the matter, on going back to the way they had been for the past few weeks, but his continued absence scuppered those plans. In fact, Roy continued to keep his distance for another week. He had stayed remarkably absent at school too, only brief glances of his serious face in the library, or his head passing in the canteen, quenching her fear that he had somehow vanished off the face of the earth, yet fanning the flames of guilty she felt. He clearly intended to keep his promise of staying away.  
  
On the 5th night of his absence, alone at the large table, Riza decided that perhaps an apology was due. Not for _what_  she had said, of course, but for _how_ she had said it. Perhaps she had been too quick to judge him. Perhaps he deserved a second chance.   
  
And so, she spent over twenty minutes staring at the icon on her phone, agonising over just how to express her apology to him without accidentally giving him the impression that she could tolerate him. _Okay, maybe that’s not true._  

She bit her lip, wrestling her conscience aside, and opened the messenger app. His face stared back at her, and she sighed as she typed.  
  
_[22:02] Are you planning on coming back to study?_

 _A bit too harsh,_ her inner voice chastised. She ignored it, pushing it to the back of her mind, going back to her notes and furtively glancing at the screen every minute, willing herself to concentrate on something _damned_  more important than Roy Mustang. But she still grabbed at the phone as it vibrated, his name appearing on her screen once more.

**[22:12] No.**

She had not expected such a blunt reply, and it hit her harder than she had expected. _What did he mean, no?!_ A flare of anger rose in her stomach, and she replied quickly, thumbs jabbing at the screen.

_[22:14] What happened to not being a waste of space?_

She would like to have said he was being dramatic for attention, but she knew he meant it. And somewhere in her defensive shield of coldness, there was a crack. _He’d had a genuine reason to be here, he did want to study._ Goddamnit, once more. 

**[22:25] I’d rather be a waste of space than an ugly, arrogant, cocky pig who makes you uncomfortable in your own home ;)**

The smiling face did nothing to convince her that it had been meant with any kind of mirth, and she once again felt the guilt churn in her stomach. In truth, she’d hadn’t _truly_  meant to be that harsh, but something in his attitude riled her, and had set off every alarm she had carefully built for herself. Maybe it was the easy way he seemed to grin, lopsided, and the gentle tease in his voice. Maybe it was the way she felt less alone, and even comfortable in his presence.

_[22:30] Where have you been? I've barely seen you at school._

**[22:35] So much for not paying attention to me, eh?**

_Fuck._ She was glad he wasn’t here, glad he was safely tucked behind the grinning photo, unable to see the colour that rose to her cheeks.

_[22:40] Excuse me for being concerned. I just thought you might have been ill, and need my notes to catch up. Our friends are friends, it’s hard not to notice you are gone. Are you okay?_

**[22:43] Now who’s being the nosey one? ;)**

He was playing games with her now. Her patience was running thin, and out of desperation, she did the unthinkable.

_[22:50] Could you meet me tomorrow? I’d like to talk to you face to face. Library, 1pm.  
_

Somewhere inside, her inner self cackled with glee, and she felt her stomach twist as his reply appeared in front of her.

**[22:51] Suppose I don’t have a choice then, do I?**

 

* * *

 

She was still agonising over her choice to message him, to ask to meet him, right up until the afternoon itself the next day. She made her excuses to slip away from Rebecca (which, really, was easier said than done) and slunk up the large staircase to the library, which was thankfully quiet. 

He was sat in the corner, silently engrossed in a book, and only really noticed her as she came closer, both hidden in the safety of the shadow of the large bookshelf. Dressed in his uniform, tie loose about his neck, the usual haphazardly styled hair falling into his eyes, he looked much different to the arrogant git that had interrogated her over her own dining table. His eyes rose to find her face, and fter a moment of consideration, he closed said book, his attention turning to her alone.

“Miss Hawkeye. You wanted to see me?”

“It’s Riza. You know that.”

“ _Ree-zah_.” She pulled a face at how he stretched her name, a chuckle escaping him. “Any reason you wanted to see me, or was it just to exchange first names? Because I’m Ro-”

“I know who you are,” she snapped, before catching the look on his face and straightening up. “Sorry...that’s why I came actually, I just...” She paused, taking a breath, glancing around to ensure they had sufficient privacy, before continuing. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” It spilled from her mouth, tongue tripping over the words, and he looked genuinely surprised. “I’m sorry I was so hostile to you. I didn’t give you a chance.”  
  
There was silence for a moment as he processed what she had said, before he shrugged.  “Then I’m sorry too. I pried, and I intruded into your personal life. I shouldn’t have.” There was another pregnant pause, before he spoke again. “I really am interested in studying, you know. I’m not a complete idiot.”

“So are you going to come back then?” Her voice was more determined, and she straightened herself. “My father doesn’t take students often, so he must have seen something in you.”

“I think that was almost a compliment.” The tease returned to his voice, easy smile reappearing. “Well, I don’t want to give up. Don’t want to be another waste of space, do I?”

The tension seemed to ease as he smiled, and Riza felt her own shoulders dropping with a sigh. She even managed a slightly coy smile. “No, I suppose you don’t.”

They stood in silence again, both unsure of where to go, awkward in the aftermath of the unexpected confessions. They had only ever truly been hostile with each other; heartfelt apologies was a first.  
                                                                
“Give me a month, Riza.”  
  
She raised an eyebrow in confusion, tilting her head, wary at the use of her first name. “A month? What for?”   
  
“A month to earn your approval. Well, maybe not quite approval. We’ll go for you being able to stand me for more than a few minutes, that’s a start. If I'm still an ugly, arrogant, cocky pig who upsets you by the end of it, I'll quit tutoring. ”  
  
She flinched at the repetition of her words, pulling a face. "You are going to bring that phrase up constantly, aren't you?"  
  
"I'll see how I feel."

She watched him for a moment, eyes following the grin, the shine in his eyes, before a slow smirk spread across her lips. “Fine. Let’s see if there is more to you than a pretty smile and quick wit.” He scoffed at her words, before she held up a hand, silencing her. “By the way...” She slipped her bag from her shoulder, opening it and handing him a large stack of papers with a wicked grin. “My father said you were behind on your studying. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow night then, I guess.”

  
She turned on her heel, leaving him gawping, making a beeline for the exit, grin still intact as she trotted back down the stairs, and her inner voice whispered that perhaps, _just perhaps,_  Roy Mustang was marginally tolerable after all.


	4. Agendas

  
The first week of Roy's return was littered with awkward moments, as the two if them continued their guarded dance around one another. At first they barely spoke, both buried in the safety of the textbooks, words exchanged only for polite conversation.

But as time ticked on, and she found herself around him more and more, she found him less of a threat. The once seemingly barbed sarcastic comments were now gentle, jibing jokes and his easy grin was comforting rather than infuriating; she wondered if he had always been this way. On Roy's part, he had seemed to calm, and the ego he had carried throughout their first meetings was nowhere to be seen. It made her relax and piece by piece, she found her carefully constructed walls being brought down; not in a harsh, quick way, but with clear thought and consideration on his part.

By the sixth week, they spoke as friends, casual, comfortable, and the three month mark of their first meeting was celebrated by ordering a pizza and forgoing studying in favour of a movie in the middle of a particularly late study evening when her father was out of town for a conference.

"What do you mean you've never seen Top Gun?"

Roy's incredulous voice cut in through the movie, Riza rolling her eyes as she picked up another slice of pizza. "Some of us have lives outside of Hollywood."

"It is a late night movie education for you, Miss Hawkeye." Riza glanced over at the clock on the wall, before looking back at Roy, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Won't your parents wonder where you are?"

"Nah. It's just my aunt." There was a beat, before he spoke again. "She's knows where I am. It's fine, she tends not to worry."

She cringed at his words, tripping over her own to fill the silence. "I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"You're fine. I was 3, it was a car crash." He gave her a reassuring smile, offering her a potato wedge. "My aunt raised me."

"Oh." She took a wedge, chewing over his words. "So your aunt...she runs the bar?"

"Christmas' bar? Yeah, she owns it. The girls work for her, the nightclub is in the bottom of it. We live in the townhouse above it." He grinned at her, taking a sip from his glass. "You should come and visit some time."

"I'm not 18, Roy." She waved a finger of warning, taking another wedge. "Besides, isn't it a...a..." She trailed off, Roy's amused grin growing.

"A strippers bar? Well, yeah, amongst other things..." He swallowed his bite of pizza, continuing to grin as he reached for the bottle of soda. "You can wait until your birthday and I will buy you your first legal drink. I might even teach you to pole dance, if you play your cards right. I'm a pro."

She smacked his arm, cheeks gaining a pink tinge, Roy choking with laughter as she rolled her eyes, before turning her attention back to the movie. "You are insufferable."

 

* * *

 

 

At school, the friend group seemed to have merged into one, and she found herself next to him most break times, along with Maes, Jean, Rebecca and Gracia, and even she had to admit it was _fun_ (albeit a little too much when Maes and Gracia got particularly loved up).

It was during a busy lunchtime, sat quietly at the table, that Riza had a tall figure stop at the table, casting a shadow over her lunch, and she raised her eyes, meeting an unfamiliar face.

"Elizabeth Hawkeye?"

She stiffened at the use of her full name, the rest of the table falling silent. "Can I help you?"

"I am the student representative for the final year. I hear you will be taking on my role after the summer."

"And you are...?" The older boy straightened up, long greasy hair tied back in a pony tail, sharp eyes focusing on her.

"Solf Kimblee. Just call me Kimblee, most people do."

"Or dick head," Roy muttered under his breath, and Riza noticed for the first time the dark looks aimed towards Kimblee from the boys. His words immediately caught the older boy's attention, and he sneered as he laid eyes on him.

"Ah, if it isn't Boy Mustang himself. Something to say, lowlife? I definitely will not be expecting you to " Roy visibly bristled at his comment, and the younger boy did not reply, only scowling at Kimble instead, who snorted and turned back to Riza. "You'd do well to stay away from people below you, Miss Hawkeye. Mustang is a good example of that. You don't want to get mixed up with the boy with a prostitute for a mother and a track record of being a flat out failure. You are destined for much better things."

She felt the disgust stir in her, her eyes catching Roy's dejected, furious look, a look that told her he believed there to be truth in Kimblee's sickening sneer, and a protective snap of anger filled her.

"Maybe I don't want to get _mixed up_ with a bully like you. Even a higher class doesn't hide a horrid personality."

There was an instant change in Kimblee, politeness fading as quickly as it had been plastered on, replaced instead by a disgusted look. "You are choosing _that_?" He sneered, lip curling. "Then again, maybe you two deserve each other. Everyone knows what your crazy old man is up to." She froze, his words ringing in her ears, staring at him as he continued to speak. "Him and his muttering, locking himself away in that decript old mansion. He deserves to be in a looney bin. Maybe you've inherited the looney. No wonder your mother killed h-"

Before he could finish, and before she could reply, anger casting a red haze over her vision, Roy had stood and put himself between her and Kimblee.

"That's enough of your shit. Leave her alone, Kimblee." His voice was a low, dangerous snarl, and a silent hush descended upon the room.

Kimblee's sneer grew, prodding a finger in Roy's chest. "Standing up for your crazy little girlfriend, Mustang? How _cute_. I suppose trash does stick together."

"I won't ask you again." Riza could hear the barely restrained anger that laced his voice, shoulders rigid, jaw clenched as he spoke. "You stay away from her."

There was a tense silence, both boys "As you wish." Kimblee glanced back to her, sneer still intact. "Let the trash fester together and maybe something useful will come of you one day."

And he was gone as quickly as he had appeared, the chatter in the room immediately returning, Roy sitting beside her once more, glowering eyes on the boys as they left, before he looked to her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, sniffing and straightening her shoulders. "I'm fine. An idiot like him doesn't even scratch the surface." She opened her mouth to enquire the same of him, but the bell's shrill ring filled the room, and he rose once more, shrugging his rucksack on his shoulder and disappearing into the crowd. Kimblee's words rang in her ears, and she felt a twist in her stomach; somehow, she believed this was not the end of this.

He had been silent for the rest of the day, and as she lay in bed that night, Riza could not help but worry over it. He hadn't appeared for study, instead apologising over text, and it did nothing to calm the anxious knot in her chest. Her phone screen lit up the room, and Rebecca's face filled the screen as her message appeared.

**[2130] So why did Roy Mustang really stand up to Kimblee for you???**

She groaned; trust Rebecca to be the live wire to the school gossip.

_[2133] It's more complicated than it seems. I didn't ask him to. Maybe because Kimblee is an asshole?_

**[2135] Well, I think this answers the question of just how he feels about you.**

Her statement caught her off guard; she hadn't considered it from _that_ particular angle. She huffed at the message, stabbing her fingers at the screen as she replied.

_2138] Who was asking? Besides, Kimblee deserved it._

**[2142] You know, I think you really sort of like him, Riza. Fess up.**

_[2145] Nothing to confess, Rebecca Catalina._

She had barely pressed send when the phone vibrated in her hand once more, and instead of Rebecca's face, Roy's appeared. She ignored the happy flutter her stomach seemed to do, opening it, pushing Rebecca's words aside.

**[2146] Sorry I didn't make it tonight. Hope you didn't miss me too much ;)**

_[2150] That's alright. It was definitely much quieter... Ill let you decide if that's a good thing! Are you alright?_

**[2152] I'm fine. Takes more than some idiot to bother me ;) Are you okay?**

_[2154] I think the phrase is 'same'. You didn't have to do that._

**2155] He can't speak to you like that. Besides, he had it coming :D**

She sighed at his words, finding the edges of her lips curling in a rueful smile. She was halfway through her own reply when he messaged once again.

**[2207] Are you busy on Friday night?**

_[2210] Aside from our study date? No._

**[2212] How about a real date? :)**

Riza stared at the screen, his words screaming at her, before launching the phone under her pillow, curling up under her covers, choosing to ignore the message. A _date_? What on Earth was he playing at? Sure, they had become closer over the past weeks, but a date... This was uncharted territory. This was Roy Mustang for God's sake. A date, with her? Sensible, cool, collected Riza Hawkeye? She couldn't deny that she enjoyed his company, and she supposed there were worse faces to look at, but she had not been expecting that. She was still trying to process the message when her phone vibrated once again, and she pulled it out with a huff, his face appearing once again.

**[2222] You know, it's bad manners to leave a guy hanging. Particularly the guy who took on the school bully for you ;)**

She found herself laughing at the ridiculousness of his message, grinning to herself as she replied.

_[2225] You won't guilt trip me into going out with you, Roy Mustang._

It took a moment, before a picture message came through. Roy's best pout was spread across her screen, large dark eyes peeking out from above his duvet, usually gelled hair now long about his eyes. She stared at it, and felt a familiar, comfortable ease spread through her; goddamn Roy Mustang. Another message appeared on her screen underneath the picture.

**[2230] But really, want to come with me to the cinema on Friday? Maes is bringing Gracia, and Havoc is taking Rebecca. I thought you could come. Save me from the love fest.**

_[2231] Well, I suppose I can't really leave you as a 5th wheel, can I?_

She tucked herself back under the covers, smile remaining as she reread the messages. Part of her wanted to cringe, to dare not admit she was looking forward to seeing him, outside of school or study.

**[2233] P.S. that's over a month. In fact, it's nearly two. Can I take that yes as your approval? ;)**

And with a snort of laughter she turned over in bed, replying as she did.

_[2235] Goodnight, Mr Mustang. I'll see you on Friday._


	5. Jebecca and the Ice Cream

  
Riza would never have said she was afraid of her father, but as she stood outside his study door, she felt a twist of nervous fear. She knocked on the heavy wooden door, waiting for the gruff response before slipping inside. The room was cast in similar light, piled high with papers and books. She did not often step into his private study, yet each time she did, the room seemed to be fuller, more cramped and darker.

“Papa?”

“I brought you some tea.” She set the cup down, rocking on her heels, before she spoke again. “Papa, I…I’m going out.”

Her words rang in the air, before her father turned to face her, face stoic. “Out?”

“With Rebecca and Gracia, and some of the others from our year. To go to the cinema and see the new film that-”

“Others?”

She stiffened, nerves making her hands tremble. “Just some of the boys from our year, Roy will be there, he is picking me up.” Her father watched her consider her words, and she cut in again. “He said he will have me home before 10.30. Our film finishes just before ten.”

Her father waited, before nodding and turning back to his papers with a wave of his hand. “Do not be late.”

A wave of relief spread through her as she skipped out of the study, heading back upstairs and grabbing her phone, Roy’s face popping up as she typed, their earlier conversation appearing once more.

_[1703] All clear!_

**[1705] Excellent! I’ll pick you up at 7 :)**

She grinned, flinging the phone across the bed, and bouncing over to the wardrobe with a hum of excitement.  
  


* * *

 

“You know, I didn’t know they did this many flavours...” Riza peered into the glass container, before looking up to the price board. “How much is it for a tub?”

“Doesn’t matter. My treat. For dragging you out here to save me from these pairs of love struck idiots.” Roy grinned down at her, hands in his pockets, swinging on his heels. “It’s a good deed that cannot be repaid.”  
  
“I heard that, Roy Mustang.” Rebecca huffed, hanging off of Havoc’s arm, Jean himself rolling his eyes.  
  
”I want to take offence to that, Roy.”

“Yet you aren’t, Jean.”

“Well, the gorgeous girl on my arm is worth the abuse I get.”

Rebecca fluttered her eyelashes at him, cooing, and Roy rolled his eyes, looking back to Riza, who looked as though she was going to vomit. “Pick your ice cream, and we can pretend they’re not with us.”

She gave in with a sigh, picking a double scoop tub, humming appreciatively as it was handed to her and she tasted it. “And here I was just thinking you wanted to spend time with me, not just to pretend you aren’t a third wheel.”

He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at her as he took his own tub, handing money to the woman behind the counter. “I never said I didn’t.” 

“Come on! We are going to miss the movie if you two don’t hurry up!” 

“We have ages, it’ll be all trailers! Besides, aren’t we waiting for Maes and Gracia?”  
  
“They’re not coming.” The words caught everyone’s attention, and Rebecca shrugged. “Gracia just text, she said something’s come up and they’re sorry.”  
  
“Oh...” Riza frowned, worry crossing her face, as Roy huffed.  
  
“Aw, great, so we’re stuck just watching your two play tonsil hockey all night.”  
  
”Shut your mouth and move your legs!”  
  
Roy pulled a face at Rebecca’s demands, looking to Riza as the pair in front of them strode off into the screen. “Is she always that demanding?”  
  
”Oh, that’s just a little taste.”

* * *

 

Roy’s forecast turned out to be spot on, and the lights in the screen had barely dimmed when the pair next to them once again locked lips. Thankfully, the screen was quiet and they put several seats of space between them and the _happy_ couple (or _Jebecca_ , as Roy had taken to calling them). They sat together in blissful silence, engrossed in the movie, until Roy shuffled in his seat, nudging Riza as he stood up.

“I gotta pee, back in a miute.”

“Oh no, you are not leaving me here with them.” She prodded a finger towards the still entwined couple several seats alone. “What if they forget to come up for air and I have to decide who I hate least to do CPR?”  
  
Roy snorted with laughter at her words, leaning down to whisper back. “Promise I’ll be back quickly. I’ll bring you popcorn too.” She huffed as he slipped past her, jogging down the stairs. It took only a minute before Rebecca leant over, grinning as she nudged Riza.

“Jean and I are just going to…get popcorn too?” A giggled slipped her lips and Riza rolled her eyes, pulling a face as they _somehow_  managed to separate themselves, and stumbled down the stairs in the dark, exiting at the other side.

Roy appeared a few minutes later, sliding back across to the seat next to her and offering her the large bucket, the smell of fresh popcorn wafting across the row. “Where is Jean?”

“Oh, probably in Rebecca’s pants by now.”

He nearly choked, staring at her, mouth full of popcorn. “Efh?”

“It’s rude to speak with your mouth full.” She turned her eyes back to the screen, taking another handful of popcorn, ignoring his incredulous face. “Making out in the janitor’s closet outside the screen.”

“Well,” he swallowed, wiping his mouth, “I wasn’t expecting an answer like that.”

“You weren’t? They’ve been all over each other all evening.”  
  
“That’s nothing new though, is it?”

Riza shrugged with a grin, turning back to the screen, frowning as she leant over to whisper to him again. “Is it just me, or is this movie particularly violent?”

“Well, it does include war, Riza.”

She pulled a face, nudging him. “I realise that. I just don’t understand why every movie has to have so many weapons, and bombs, and-”

“Well, can’t fight a war without weapons can you?”

“We shouldn’t glorify war.”

“It’s a necessary evil. Weapons help with that evil. They’re not all doom and gloom.”

“A weapon is a weapon, regardless of how you paint it.”

“It’s a tool, to achieve a goal, a means to an end.”  
  
She looked over to him as he sipped at his soda, raising an eyebrow, before rolling her eyes. “We shall have to agree to disagree.”

“I can live with that.” He stretched his arms, lying back against the seat, before grinning at her. “Well, since it’s just you and me-”

“Absolutely not.” She leant over, snatching another handful of popcorn from the bucket, before settling back in her seat, glancing at the poised arm he had leant against the seat behind her. He smiled innocently, drumming his fingers on the back of her seat, and she raised an eyebrow. “And what do you think you are doing?”

“Stretching?” It was his best innocent tone, smile still plastered across his face, and she sighed, before settling back against him with a wry smile.

“Oh, go on then.”

His grin was triumphant, and he slipped his arm around her, hand tickling her arm lightly. “I know you don’t hate me as much as you make out, Hawkeye.”

“I will if you don’t shut up. I’ve wanted to see this movie since the day it came out, so zip it.”

He couldn’t help it, but Roy snorted with laughter at her hiss, earning himself a jab to the ribs. As he sat back in his seat, the weight of Riza leaning against his shoulder, the sweet scent of shampoo tickling at his nose from her blonde hair, he figured he was still right; she didn’t hate him after all.

 

* * *

 

“That film was better than I was expecting!”

“I thought there was more to life than Hollywood, huh?”

“Don’t you dare use my own words against me, Roy Mustang.”

They had stopped outside the dark house, Riza glancing at it, before feeling a treacherous pang of anger. She didn’t want to go back to this dark, lonely old house. Not after an evening filled with company, with light, with carefree fun. She loved her father, nothing would ever change that, but Roy’s original words to her, about being lonely, had started to haunt her. _Maybe he had a point after all._

“Thank you for tonight.”

“No, thank you. Saved me from having to sit at a snogfest alone.” He gave an involuntary shudder at the though, before grinning at her. “So can I call on you for my plus one to all future snogfests?”

“Is there many in the pipeline?”

“There could be.”

She raised a teasing eyebrow, tongue flicking at her lips. “Remind me who organised tonight?”

“Isn’t your father going to be wondering where you are?” He deliberately looked away, prodding her arm. “Don’t get me into trouble now.” She laughed as she gathered bag, Roy speaking once more. “There’s a party in a few weeks time. You know Breda? Its his 18th. It’s just going to be a house party, his parents are going abroad, so it’ll be fun. That’s if you want to come.” And the look in his eyes told her she was being made _more_ than welcome.

“I should be able to clear my schedule,” she grinned, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll let you know. Good night, Roy.”

“Night, Riza.”

She closed the door and headed up the unkempt path towards the house, shrouded in darkness. It was her home, but at that moment, she had never felt less welcome. The warmth and company of the evening felt further with each step, and as she stepped inside, a shiver passed through her, and she was ready to turn and run back to the car. But she closed the heavy door and slipped her jacket from her shoulders, the house silent, the only light the glow from under her father’s door, and made her way upstairs to the privacy of her own room. Changing into her pyjamas, she opened up her phone, Roy’s face already sitting waiting, notification bouncing.

**[2255] You're pretty good company, you know, Miss Hawkeye**

_[2300] You’re not so bad, I suppose. Thanks for tonight. It was nice._

**[2303] Anytime, sweetcheeks ;)**

_[2305] Call me that again and your cheek will be anything but sweet ;)_

She giggled to herself as she sent the retort, stretching out on the bed. 

**[2310] We could do it again next week?**

_[2313] I’ll ask Rebecca and Gracia if they are free._

**[2316] I mean, we could always go anyway, even if they are not..**

_[2318] You mean like a date?_

**[2320] Well… if you wanted it to be ;)**

Riza stared at the screen, heart suddenly thudding in her chest. _A date?_ Well, he was good company, especially if the choice was that or listening to Rebecca drivel on about _Jean_. Her head told her that was exactly why she was accepting, for company, an alternative; her heart whispered that there was more to it than that.

_[2324] I suppose I could live with that._

**[2325] And Breda’s party? You’re going to come, right?**

She stared down at the phone, chewing her lip as she read the words again. Parties were not really her forté, and alcohol was certainly _not_  a regular feature in her weekends. But the surge of confidence from the night out, and the promise of Roy, as well as the girls, attending pushed her.  
  
_[2333] Yes, I will._

Her stomach twisted as she replied, before sliding back under the covers, nervous twinges tickling at her. Her father would be out of town, he would never need to know there was any kind of party involved. Amongst the nerves, she felt the lick of excitement. _Maybe there was something to be said for alcohol-fuelled social gatherings after all._  
  
**[2335] Great! :D Well, it’s bed for you, or you’ll be grumpy tomorrow.**

_[2338] Shut up you. Good night._  
  
**[2340] Sweet dreams x**


	6. Drunken Escapades

The end of term and the summer break seemed to appear in a flash; It rolled around in a haze of end of year exams, and even Riza had to admit she was ready for some down time. Of course, she had proudly showed off her straight A’s when Roy had enquired at their last study night, with a noted distinction at the bottom of her attainment slip. She had waited for the sarcasm, for the teasing comment, but it didn’t come; only a genuine look on his face when he said he was proud, and that he’d buy some braincells, if she was willing to spare. The shining ‘A’ next to all three sciences on his own slip, however, accompanied a wider, beaming smile, and the slew of good grades that followed made her beam with pride. _Well, well. Pigs will fly somewhere._  
  
Roy had taken her to see a movie in celebration of their shared academic successes. It had quickly turned from a single celebratory film, to a weekly date night, and she began to look forward to the Friday staple. He picked her up, they bought the same bucket of popcorn, the same flavours of ice cream, and sat in the same two seats at the back of the theatre together. She supposed some people would tire of the simplicity of it, but the routine became something she depended on; the worries of the week, her anxiety over her father and his work, the stress of running the house and trying to stretch cenz that were not there, left her.  
  
She had begun to notice the ease their relationship came with; the simple conversations, the more heated discussions and debates, the good natured way his eyes lit up when she spoke passionately, and that _damned_ little smirk that seemed to curl at the corner of his lips, and send a flutter through her. Riza would never have admitted it, but somewhere along the line, he had stopped being so utterly infuriating (all of the time, at least). In fact, she was starting to admit that perhaps she _did_  actually like the boy, in one sense or another.   
  
But only to herself, of course.  
  
Five weeks later, the night of Breda’s party arrived. Her father had gone out of town for a conference for the week, something she had noticed had become a recent passion of his. He had mumbled something about visiting experts, and had left a small pile of money for her on the kitchen counter. In days gone by, she would have worried, but she found herself distracted by the new found social life she had been thrown into.   
  
She had agreed to stay at Rebecca’s, with the promise of late night talks and someone to do the zip on the back of her dress. The evening was spent discussing Jean’s particularly talents (much to her abject disgust), the college choices of the class above them, Roy, the impossible way in which Riza’s hair sat, and a flash through class in drinking games. As she checked herself in the long mirror once again, dress unfamiliar and strange but somehow so complimentary, and Rebecca’s handy make up giving her eyes that seemed to have doubled in size, she had to admit that this was not nearly as bad as she had been expecting.  
  
  
The party itself was much less chaotic than she had imagined, and as they approached the house, Riza began to feel her nerves leave her. What was the worst that could happen, after all? They were met by an excitable Breda, who had clearly started drinking prior to the arrival of his guests, and were ushered inside.   
  
”OI! Havoc! Your girl’s here!”   
  
Rebecca barrelled past her, squealing about _Jean_  as she did so, and Riza had barely finished trying to contain the disgusted look on her face when a familiar voice spoke from the staircase behind her.  
  
”Ah, Miss Hawkeye, you came. I was beginning to think you’d abandoned the idea altogether.” _Roy;_  dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, hair brushed simply out of his face, leaning against the banister and grinning at her. _It suited him._    
  
“Well, I did try to make a bid for freedom on the way over here, but it was sadly unsuccessful.”  
  
His snort of laughter made her relax, and he stepped down to her, waggling a finger. “I detect that may not quite be the full truth.” There was a pause, both glancing over the other, before Roy spoke again. “Nice dress. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in one before.”  
  
“You’ve never had a reason.” She stuck out her tongue, Roy laughing again before gesturing through the crowd of bodies and towards the kitchen, with the large pile of alcohol that awaited. 

One drink quickly became another, and as she was handed another glass, Riza began to warm to the idea that perhaps Roy may have had a inkling of truth in his words; _what is life without a little fun?_

And it _was_  fun. The music blared from speakers set out throughout, and the buzz of talk bounced around the house.They had spent almost half an hour laughing at a very drunk Vato Falman, who had gone from a shy retiring boy in the corner, to perhaps the best karaoke singer Riza had heard. Roy spent most of the night not far from her, mingling amongst many faces she did not know, but was soon introduced to by him. It was a comforting kind of presence, aside from Rebecca and Gracia’s often knowing looks as she stood with him, and she giggled along with the crowd as Maes lost yet another drinking game.

 _What’s life without a little fun after all_.

She grew to hate those words, however, as they were stumbling home, her mind spinning, tongue tainted with alcohol, and she had an arm wrapped around Roy’s, huddled against his taller frame as they walked. A giggling Rebecca clung to a considerably inebriated Jean, whispering away behind them as the walked. The boys had insisted on walking them home, despite Riza’s protests of her ability to look after herself. Roy glanced back at they slowed, raising an eyebrow, before nudging Riza’s arm, grinning.  
  
“Are you sure you want to deal with that?”  
  
“Well, I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“She’s staying with me, don’t you get any ideas! Whispering away to yourselves, sneaky people!” Rebecca’s screech bounced down the street, as Jean held her upright, Roy rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I know, loudmouth! That’s why we are walking this way! You live down here, you said!” He snorted a laugh as Rebecca replied with something inaudible, before they stopped as Jean leant against a wall, Roy and Riza continuing to walk around the corner.

“Is she always like this?”  
  
“Well, this is the first time I have seen her drunk. But I am guessing, yes.”  
  
Roy snorted, glancing behind them, before noticing the absent _Jebecca,_  pulling a face, nudging her. “Ah, for God’s sake, we’re two men down. Where are they?”   
  
Riza huffed, glancing back with a roll of her eyes. “We better stop and wait on them. Jeeeez.”

Roy stopped, leaning back against the cold brick wall of the alleyway, before pulling her gently to him. She curled against his chest, pulling his jacket around her against the cool air, and his arm naturally followed, holding her against him, the smell of him washing over her as she nuzzled in. And Roy smelt _good_.   
  
“Cosy there?”

His low voice rumbled in his chest, against her ear, and she giggled lightly. “I’m not so cold anymore. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn such a short dress, something more sensible might’ve been useful.”  
  
“It looks good on you, though.”  
  
“Mr Mustang, you are _drunk_.”  
  
“Drunk words are sober thoughts, Miss Hawkeye.”

She giggled again at his words, before twisting to look up at him, and she found herself looking into his eyes, deep, dark eyes that she found herself quickly getting lost in. The alcohol in her brain whispered wicked things in her ear, and it was a split second before she closed the gap between them, lips meeting his. She had no time to reconsider as his own soft lips caught hers in a deeper kiss, hands grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him, and a soft moan slipped past her lips as her hands grasped at his face. His immediate response sent a shiver of delight through her spine; _that he wanted this just as badly as she did_.   
  
They sprung apart at the sound of footsteps from around the corner, Riza burying her head against Roy’s chest once more, as Rebecca and Jean tottered around the street. 

“What’s going on here then!” Jean’s slur seemed to be getting worse by the minute, Rebecca pointing a finger at them as they approached. 

“We were waiting for you!” Riza snapped indignantly, peeking out from the safety of Roy’s embrace. “It’s freezing!”

“Waiting on you pair of idiots to finish your love fest. Get a shift on or it’ll be morning before you manage to crawl home!” Riza heard the slight pant on Roy’s breath, his fingers gently squeezing her side as he spoke, and she ignored her burning cheeks. The pair   
  
“Well, since Jebecca is currently occupied-”  
  
“Don’t get any ideas.”  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Hawkeye.” And that _damned_  little smirk made her stomach flip. “Will I be seeing you for breakfast in the morning? Considering I will not be waking up next to y-”  
  
“ _Mr Mustang_!” She giggled, tapping a finger on the end of his nose with a mocking frown on her face. “That is _entirely_  inappropriate behaviour. I thought you were a gentleman.”  
  
“But I am. I’m inviting you to breakfast.”  
  
 "Well... I suppose that breakfast sounds like a good idea. I’ll see you in the morning, Roy.” She turned, fully intending to totter her way into the house, but Roy’s hand caught hers, pulling her back to him, and in one movement, placed a sweet, soft kiss on her lips. It was almost tender, devoid of any of the previous _lust_ and he grinned as they separated once more.  
  
“Goodnight, Riza.”  
  
“Goodnight, Roy.”  
  


* * *

 

  
“Well, that was _some_  night!” Rebecca squealed happily, kicking off the high heels from her feet and falling onto her bed, Riza laughing as she joined her.  
  
“You certainly enjoyed yourself.”  
  
“Look who is talking!” Rebecca turned her head to face her, waggling a finger. “Miss social butterfly! I didn’t know you...” She trailed off, staring for a moment, before more directly pointing. “Why is your lipstick smudged?”

Riza blinked, weighing up her options mentally. The buzz of alcohol told her that it didn’t matter, and she stuck her tongue out, flopping back onto the bed with a grin. Rebecca let out a scream, pouncing on her immediately. “You kissed him, didn’t you!”

“None of your beeswax!”

“ _Elizabeth Hawkeye_ , you tell me right now. Did. You. Kiss. Him.”

Riza laughed, prodding the other girl’s nose. “You are so _nosey_.”

“Oh my God, you _did_! Oh, you are _so_ telling me. I knew you liked him! I knew it!”

“It was only a kiss or two, calm your mind.”

“ _Or two_?!” Riza rolled her eyes with a snicker Rebecca frantically shook her. “You kissed Roy Mustang, _more than once may I add_ , and now are playing coy about it?! This is _huge!”_

“You are so _ridiculous_.”  
  
“Was it good?” Rebecca’s eyes glinted dangerously, and Riza found herself giggling again, the alcohol on her breath making her mind fuzzy.  
  
“Well, I’m not complaining...” Rebecca shrieked once more, grabbing at her with a delighted squeal, hugging her tightly.  
  
“My little baby Riza, making out with Roy Mustang. And to think you hated his guts at the start of this year! You said he was annoying!”

“Announce it to the world why don’t- _don’t even think about it!”_  Her hand slapped at Rebecca’s phone on the bed, scowling mockingly. “This is our secret.”

“You know I’m rubbish with secrets, Riza.”

“Well, you better start getting better at them! Nobody, _and I mean nobody_ , can know, okay?”   
  
“ _Fine.”_  Rebecca huffed, folding her arms as she sat against the wall, picking up her phone with a sigh. “Now I have to pretend to Jean that I’m really excited because he wanted us to sleep together, and not because my best friend has just spent her first party snogging the face off of her Mustang.”  
  
Riza rolled her eyes, pulling a face as she picked up her own phone. “I don’t need to know about Jean’s plans for your free time, thank you very much.”  
  
“It’ll be different a different story when it’s you and R-”  
  
“ _Rebecca_.”  
  
The other girl cackled, burying her head back into her phone, and Riza huffed as she did the same, the bouncing notification next to Roy’s name made her heart skip.   
  
 **[0315] Did you get in alright?**

_[0316] You watched me walk in the door!_

**[0317] Just checking ;) So breakfast, 10am? Coffeeshop down from school, they do the best eggs. Cures any hangover.**

_[0318] It’s a date :) _Now get to sleep or you’ll never be up! x__   
  
**[0320] Alright, bossy boots. G’night, gorgeous x**

And as she placed her phone back down, Riza couldn’t deny the tingle of warmth that she felt. _Gorgeous_. She wanted to say it was simply smooth talking, but after tonight, she doubted she could ever say that again. _Kissed him._ Why had she been surprised?   
  
Oh well, she decided. Sober Riza could deal with the consequences.

  
  
  



	7. The Day After The Night Before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me, and with APWF! Things are getting fluffy in the au world, but it wouldn't be an au fic if it stayed that way, would it now? Stay tuned as we start to beef things out a little ;)
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the reads, kudos and comments! It means the world!

Sober Riza, it turned out, was not nearly as easy a transition as she had been expecting. The first light to hit her bleary eyes burnt something terrible, and she was convinced her throat had become sandpaper in the few hours of sleep she’d managed. Rebecca’s face swam into view, and she groaned as she batted the other girl away, sitting up with a wince.  
  
“I think my head is going to explode.”

“That’s sign of a good night you know. And a good night you had, Elizabeth Hawkeye.”  
  
The events of the previous night came flooding back to her, and Riza felt her stomach drop; _Roy._ _She’d kissed Roy Mustang._  
  
“Oh, Riza, Riza, _Riza._ You were a busy girl.”

“Rebecca…I… _I kissed him._ ”  
  
“Don’t I know about it.”  


She ran back through everything she could remember, the party, the walk home, until the end of their conversation. _She’d promised to meet him him for breakfast_.  
  
“What time is it?!”  
  
“It’s after eleven. Why on earth are you worried about that?”  
  
Riza scrambled for her phone at the edge of the bed, swiping at the screen, and she felt herself freeze at the messages waiting for her, the first sent over two hours ago.

**[1123] Sooo…I guess I’m officially stood up now?**

_Shit._  
****

She felt the panic rise in her chest, and it was all she could to stop herself typing a page-long apology in reply.

_[1134] I am so, so sorry. I slept in. I can be with you in 20?_

She groaned, holding her head in one hand, Rebecca glancing over. “ What’s the matter?”  
  
“Roy, I…I said I’d meet him for breakfast.”  
  
“Well, I’d say it’s a little past breakfast time now, Sleeping Beauty.”  
  
“I know that,” she snapped, sighing heavily as she read his message again, a reply lighting up the screen. 

**[1135] Well, it’s nice to know you’re at least alive. Sure**

_[1136] I’ll be there as soon as I can._  
****

**[1137] I’m at the coffee shop just down from school ;)**

She wanted to say she felt relieved, but it would’ve been a lie.   
****

**  
**

* * *

**  
**The dash from Rebecca’s had been hectic, and as she had hurried to look at least semi-respectable, Riza had felt a growing sense of dread. Rebecca insisted it was nerves, that it would be fine once she was sat with him, enjoying a quiet breakfast, but she could not shake the feeling that somehow, this was all one big misunderstanding. **  
**

The feeling did not fade, but in fact, started to seep into every crack of her mind. As she made her way down the street, bag from the night before on her back, she saw him standing at the door, and felt her body freeze. The night before came rushing back to her, and her breath caught in her throat, nausea suddenly overwhelming.  
  
_She couldn’t do this_. _This was a mistake. This was all a massive mistake._

His eyes had lifted from his phone and had found her face, and the smile he wore _scared_ her. Her name rang in her ears, his voice alien, and with the blood rushing in her ears, her feet moved without another thought, turning and running as fast as they would carry her away from him. Her name was louder, more panicked in his voice, and his confusion mirrored her own, laced with fear, anxiety. Her heart screamed that she was making a mistake, her head joining in to ask what _exactly_ she was planning to do.  
  
But she didn’t think, just continued to run, darting along the streets and into the leafy side-streets. She didn’t truly relax until her key was jarred in the door, and the safety of home embraced her, the house silent and empty, yet peaceful. The heaving of her chest slowly started to calm, and the pounding in her head returned once more as she took in what exactly had happened over the past twenty-four hours. _Her first drink, her first party, her first kiss - with Roy Mustang, no less._

And now, she had stood him up in the most dramatic fashion. Slumping to sit on the bottom step, she pulled her phone from her pocket, feeling her panic return as his message sat waiting for her.

**[1211] Look, I know I don’t look my usual pretty self after a night out, but I think that was a bit of a slap in the face really ;)**

She half-laughed; _trust him to make a joke of this._ Hands shaking, she stared at the message, before throwing the phone back in her pocket, darting down the hall and making herself busy with emptying the contents of her bag from last night, trying to push Roy and everything about him as far from her mind as she could.

By the time evening started to roll around, however, she could no longer ignore the nagging guilt. Having gone through every emotion in the book, Riza had resigned herself to curling up in front of the television, wrapped in the largest blanket she owned, and feeling incredibly sorry for herself, the lashing rain against the window outside doing nothing to help her mood. She did her best to ignore the blinking icon of his name as she conversed with Rebecca, the other girl practically screaming through the phone at her, her punishment for being honest with her.

Her tortured peace was shattered, however, when there was a loud pounding at the front door to the house. At first, she ignored it; turning up the television worked for at least 10 minutes, until whoever was attempting to find her upped their efforts. She climbed from the sofa, and stared down the hall, the shadow outside the frosted glass remaining, the pounding starting up again and she gave a frustrated huff as she traipsed down the hall, mood entirely sour. Cracking the door open, her eyes widening as her gaze fell on a thoroughly soaked Roy Mustang, pushing the hair out of his eyes, jacket entirely sodden as the rain poured on to him.  
  
“Thought you would never open that.”  
  
“Look, I don’t want to talk. What on _earth_ are you doing here? ”  
  
“Well, you know, it’s such a lovely day I thought I’d take a stroll, enjoy the sunshine, go and see the girl-“ She began to shut the door, Roy’s foot wedging between it and the door frame, stopping her from shutting it, a flash of determination in his eyes, “who looked at me as though she’d seen a monster, ran and has ignored me ever since.”  
  
His words caught her by surprise and she found herself struggling for words. “It’s not you, you’re not a… I…I just…I’m sorry, I…” She fell silent, Roy watching her, before sighing and shrugging, his gentle, good natured grin returning.  
  
“This conversation would be better out of the rain, you know, whatever you’ve got to say. If I can come in.”

Riza blinked, before a sigh slipped her lips, and she stepped aside, watching as he left puddles behind him and shrugged off the soaked jacket. “Give me that. Why would you go out in the rain, without a waterproof jacket? Ridiculous male, complete lack of common sense, typical. Get into the living room, go on, before you catch pneumonia!”  
  
_That goofy grin of his._ He sauntered past her, familiar with the layout of the house from his many evenings spent here, and she sighed again as she slung the jacked over the nearest door, following after him.  
  
“You really didn’t need to come across town to see me.”  
  
“You didn’t reply. Had to check you were alive. Your father would never forgive me.”

“I see. So it was for my father.”  
  
“No, that’s…that’s not what I meant. You’re putting words in my mouth.” He turned to face her, Riza raising a thoroughly unimpressed eyebrow, before he spoke. “About last night. I-“

“Look. Roy.” She cut in, lifting her head and taking a brave breath, before her words spilled out in an uncontrolled ramble. “I’m sorry for last night. I was drunk, and I didn’t really know what I was doing. I should’ve been more in control of myself, it was really unacceptable, that was my first party, and my first _kiss_ come to think of it, and I can’t even remember most of the night, and…are you _laughing_ at me?“  
  
“Oi, you’re something else, Riza Hawkeye. _Unacceptable_.” Roy grinned down at her, before sighing dramatically. “And here I was preparing to tell you what an excellent night I had, and how I’d hoped we could repeat it.”  
  
“Repeat…it?” Riza stared at him, before a flicker of anger crossed her face, the humour leaving him as she glowered at him. “Absolutely not. There is a reason people choose to abstain from drinking, and that is that it brings about very poor judgement and choices!”  
  
“Poor judgement and choices? Is that why you ran today? Because you couldn’t face me, couldn’t face that I was a reminder of your poor judgement and choice when you kissed me?”

  
“Now who is putting words in mouths? Getting drunk was the start of the terrible choices! Letting my guard down in the first place, making myself so vulnerable!”  
  
“Ah.” Roy folded his arms, raising an eyebrow. “So this is about the mighty Riza Hawkeye showing anything less than perfect composure.”  
  
“ _Don’t mock me._ There is a very good reason that I choose to do that! Because it hurts less when people disappear from your life! When people forget about you, prioritise everything above you, abandon you and you are left on your own!”  
  
“And that is why you ran?”  
  
“You can point and laugh all you want, but when it is _you_ getting hurt one day, you will understand! Understand that I cannot take chances, not when it comes down to protecting myself from people who will hurt me!”  
  
“I won’t hurt you, Riza.” The simple statement caught her off-guard, and she stared at him, his face unreadable. “I would never see anything hurt you. I thought that would’ve been obvious after our little stand off with your friend Kimblee.” She was ready to snap back, ready to tear shreds from him, but his eyes told her that there was no malice intended in his words. She had expected to see pity, but instead, found a familiar understanding, and gentle compassion. Their stand off defeated, both fell into an awkward dance around the silence that filled the room, Roy finally speaking again.  
  
“Do you regret it?”  
  
“Have you been listening to anything I just said?!“  
  
“Not the party. Kissing _me_ , Riza. Do you regret that? Because I don’t. Not at all.”  
  
Catching the intonation in his voice, her breath hitched. He was staring at her, a mixture of confusion and curiosity on his face, brows knitted with a frown, and she felt her previous anger begin to desert her. _This was Roy, after all_. Roy, with his own walls, his own mask, his own charade. Roy, who had _earned_ her approval, piece by piece, word by word. Sweet Roy, with his smirk, and laugh, and gentle teasing, and a way of making her feel at piece with the wilds of the world.  
  
“…no. I don’t suppose I do.” She saw his shoulders drop, frown easing at her reply, and she wondered just how much of a weight she had suddenly removed from him. He was silent again, chewing the corner of his lip, before meeting her gaze.  
  
“Then I was thinking, maybe we should make it a more regular thing. ”  
  
“Regular alcohol overindulgence is incredibly bad for your liver and parties are-“  
  
“ _Kissing_ , Riza. Each other. Sober or drunk, I’m not really going to be picky here.”  
  
“You want to…kiss? Regularly?” She considered him, pondered the suggestion for a moment, before the slyest of smirks curled at the corner of her lips, their eyes meeting once more. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a suggestion like that before.”  
  
“I meant what I said. I enjoyed our night last night, because you were with me.”  
  
“And you want to make that a more regular thing?”  
  
“Well, I’d like to be more than that. You know,” Roy shrugged, pretending to think, before grinning at her, “Maybe something more like, I dunno, dating?”  
  
“Dating?” Her eyes widened, smirk faltering ever so slightly. Of everything she had prepared to hear him say, that was not one of them. Her heart pounded beneath her ribs, but the fear she had expected to feel did not appear. Instead, excitement seemed to sweep her, fingers curling in her palms, and she licked at her lips. _Dating?_ Roy raised an eyebrow, allowing the silence to hang for a moment, before speaking once again.

“I guess I was expecting more of a reaction than that.” 

“Just what were you expecting, Mr Mustang?” Riza stepped closer to him, his surprised grin growing as she did, and the excitement fuelled a confidence she was unfamiliar with, but oh so comfortable.  
  
“Miss Hawkeye, are you _flirting_ with me?”  
  
“Two can play that game. Now, I asked a question.” She prodded a finger in his chest, eyes raising to meet his again. “Don’t be rude. Answer.”  
  
“Well, I was expecting either a yes or a no.”  
  
“I see.” She paused, considering her thoughts, before looking back to him. “Then what were you hoping for?”  
  
“Gee, let me see. I was hoping to be shot down in flames by the girl I so obviously, painfully like.” The sarcasm laced his voice, but the easy smile on his face betrayed him.  
  
“Hm. I see.” She tapped his chest once more, before turning on her heel without another word, disappearing into the living room and proceeding to make herself comfortable once more on the sofa. Roy stared, jaw hanging, before shaking his head, storming after her, disbelief written across his face.  
  
“Are you just going to leave me hanging?!”  
  
“Let me see.” Riza turned to face him, leaning over the back of the sofa and folding her arms. “You get me drunk, have me kiss you, then interrupt my quiet time the day after by showing up at my home-“  
  
“To check you were alive!”  
  
“ _Showing up at my_ home, and demanding that I shoot your proposal of dating ‘ _down in flames’,_ not to mention having me question every principle I hold dear by coming into my life, uninvited, with your stupid smirk.” She drummed her fingers on the sofa, before grinning softly. “Well, Mr Mustang, I am afraid I am going to have to disappoint you and say yes to your idea.” And with that, she turned back to the TV, curling up with a content smirk. It took Roy a moment to react, blinking dumbfounded, before he broke into his usual boyish grin once more, clearing the back of the sofa in one movement, and settling next to her, nudging her with an elbow.  
  
“You could’ve just said yes _normally_ , you know.”  
  
“And let you have all the fun? Now, where would the fairness in that have been?” She leant into him, Roy slipping an arm around her shoulders, before their gaze met against, both silent for what seemed to linger.  
  
“You know, we should probably try kissing sober. Just to make sure you _do_ actually like me.”  
  
“When did I say that in the first place?” Giggling at the offended look on his face, she beckoned him close with a finger, hand cupping his cheek as their lips met. It was a sweet, gentle kiss, and it was laced with a keen, innocent nervousness, with none of the previous night’s confidence. The anxious look on his face as they parted was more than evident, and Riza raised a curious eyebrow. “What’s that look for? I would’ve thought that would’ve been easy for a notorious _womaniser_ such as yourself.”  
  
He scoffed at her words, colour suddenly rising to his cheeks, squirming where he sat. “Everyone has to learn somewhere.”  
  
His words washed over her, and she seized upon him, suddenly incensed. “Last night was _your_ first kiss?”  
  
“No comment.” Unfortunately, his eyes did not keep the same vow of silence.  
  
“Ha! I can’t believe it! The mighty Roy Mustang, never kissed a girl in all his days. And you laughed at _me_!” She giggled, triumphant as his blush darkened, settling back in against him, sighing contently. “Well, I feel _much_ better about it all.”

 

“I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”  
  
“Not any time soon, no.”  
  
“I can kiss you again, if you’d find it as particularly funny.”  
  
“You can order pizza, and I will consider it.”  
  
“Deal.”


	8. Home, and all that means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so unbelievably sorry for the time it has taken me to update this, and completely apologise of my muse taking the holidays off. 
> 
> Good news, she's back, and I'm hoping to get a good amount of words out each week from here on in.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos, and thanks for sticking around! Hoping to start weaving the story together now, and I even have an ending...I think.

She thought she may have been waiting for the world to fall apart around her ears, or for some seismic shift, fireworks, rapture, that she would never be the same again. 

But no such drama came. No rapture, no world’s end, no pink tinted view or rosy romantic hue. As the days, and then weeks, of summer passed, it was a feeling of comfort, of peace, that seemed to engulf her. Of ease, of friendship, of some kind of silent bond of familiarity. His easy smile and twisting smirk seemed to fill her dreams. They talked, and talked, and talked some more, and she found so much of herself within him, yet so many things to discover (and _debate_ ). She had been nervous at first, but the weight of his hand in hers was now a comfort, and the soft touch of his lips against hers became a highlight of her days.

Her father, of course, remained clueless to the entire affair. She doubted he would have wanted to know, but the fear that he would exile Roy for daring to go anywhere near her stopped her from being so forward about it with him. He had continued to push work for Roy to do, and their study dates became far more one sided than term-time, Roy often sitting deep in thought, puzzling over formulae and algebraic methods, Riza stretched out next to him with a book in hand. Some nights, her father insisted that he worked with him in his study, and Riza sullenly made herself hot chocolate to soothe her irritation. He balanced working for his aunt with the ever increasing amount of studying her father laid upon him, and Riza had won herself a few hours at the local library as an assistant to pass the time. As summer was drawing to a close, and the final school year fast approaching, three months with Roy seemed to have drifted by in a flash, and a part of her wondered what she had done with her time before he had turned up at her door.

Her father was out of town - he had told her very little about _why_ , and annoyingly, Roy had informed her it was to meet with another scientist. Riza almost balked; her father, socialising? Impossible. She had been somewhat enjoying the peace, having baked herself an entire batch of cookies that had since disappeared, and was halfway through a good book when the lights cut out with a loud _thunk_ , and the radio she had so been enjoying ground to a halt. Her phone told her it was exactly 10.30pm, but of course, the internet had gone down with it. 

She _hated_ the dark. She had done for as long as she could remember. Her father called it an irrational fear; Riza called it paranoia. She placed it solidly within her childhood, of dark stormy nights, and of her final memories of her mother, a shell of her former self, in the dark master bedroom of the home. She could feel the panic beginning to rise in her, phone light her only guide as she peered at the electrical panel. Nothing _looked_ different. She tried a switch, and to her complete dismay, nothing happened. She could handle this, she told herself. She was _Riza Hawkeye_ , for crying out loud. But even Riza Hawkeye had limits, and the thought of a night alone, in the dark, was her breaking point.

And so, she called him. Over the noise of the bar, she babbled something about the electrics, something about being alone, and something about needing the lights to come back on. She was sure she had spoken at double speed, and _certain_ she had kept her voice as calm as ever, but he _knew_. He always did. Riza wanted to be annoyed that he did, that she was so easily read, but his promise of coming over to look was one she couldn’t say no to at this moment. And pride be damned, she could have kissed him when he appeared on her doorstep.

“Well, I don’t think I’m going to be fixing anything. Looks like the whole street is out.”  
  
He was right. It was only now she realised the entire street was in darkness, her earlier panic having removed   
  
“It was all dark as I was driving up. They’re gonna take a while to fix it.”

“Oh, I don’t believe this. And of course, my father is away. Typical.”  
  
“This sudden neediness is very unlike you, Miss Hawkeye.”  
  
“I am not _needy._ ” The very word grated on her.  
  
“Are you _scared_ of the dark?”  
  
“I am not scared of the _dark._ ” She pouted indignantly, folding her arms. “I worry about what might be _in_ the dark.” Roy’s laugh did nothing to help her mood, and she huffed once more, glancing out at the darkened street before sighing irritably. “Don’t we pay taxes so this doesn’t happen? I mean, it’s not asking for much!”  
  
“You should tell them you are afraid of the dark and you might get an emergency pass. Your own personal engineer to fix it for you.” She scowled at him, his grin irritating her last nerve. This was not happening. “You could always stay with me, instead.”

That caught her off guard. She looked at him, expecting to see the boyish grin widen, teasing her, pushing her buttons, but instead met a genuine smile. “With you?”  
  
“Well, obviously at my aunt’s. But yes, with me.”  
  
“Oh… n-no, no…” Unable to think exactly _why_ shouldn’t, she faltered. “I couldn’t, Roy.”  
  
“Why not? My aunt and the girls have been asking to meet you. There’s plenty of space.” The grin appeared again, and he shrugged. “I’ll take the sofa if that is what is bothering you.”  
  
“No, that’s not…” She trailed off, glancing to the dark house, the soulless windows pitch black in the night. She didn’t _want_ to spend the the night in the dark lone, and her father was away for the weekend. What was stopping her? The fear of meeting Roy’s aunt? Of being completely beyond her comfort zone? Of even sleeping under the same roof as him? 

“You’d prefer to stay here in the dark, alone?” 

_Well_ , inner Riza contemplated, _it’s either dealing with meeting the in-laws or that._ “Alright. You’ve got a point.”  
  
“I know I do.”

She rolled her eyes, turning on her heel and disappearing up the stairs. “Fine. Stay here, I’m going to get a bag.”

Roy grinned in response, pulling out his phone as he leant against the door, and she heard the faint sound of conversation: Roy informing, she suspected, his aunt of her impending arrival and stay. The very thought of it made her stomach flip; she wasn’t very good with new people at the best of times, never mind Roy’s _family_. In fact as she piled overnight supplies into her rucksack, she wondered just what on earth she was thinking of. But the alternative, of a dark night alone in the crumbling house, with it’s creaks and cracks, with not even music to distract her, was far worse, she reckoned. She may never have seen her father some nights, but as least she _knew_ there was someone here. She would calm down. This would be a good thing. _Positive mental attitude, Riza._

Her nerves, however, had not calmed by the time Roy pulled up on the street, neon signs bright in the night’s darkness, and the buzz of bar patrons around them. She stuck close to him as they walked, ducking under a train bridge and down a cobbled street, filled with bars and noise. They dodged the crowd of drunken men, Riza flinching at the inebriated yelling, and headed around the back of the building.

“I’ve never been down this end of town this late at night.” She cast a glance back over her shoulder, watching the group of men once more. “Well, I don’t really come down this part of town _ever_ , but especially not at night. My father says this is where you read about all the time in the papers.”  
  
“We don’t bite…much. Besides, the media love a good story. Nothing to be afraid of down here.” Roy sauntered along next to her, leading her down an alleyway, to an old door with a lamp casting a warm shadow across the steps.   
  
“It is _loud_ though, isn’t it?”  
  
“It’s lively. I don’t know how you sleep in the silence. Nothing says ‘sleep tight’ like the sound of police sirens and drunken arguments.” He fiddled with the key, muttering under his breath as he fought with it, before the lock gave way and he pushed through the door. The immediate smell of homemade food and burning incense hit her, leading her in like a warm welcome as she stepped over the threshold, and into the home.  
  
“Make yourself at home. There’s food on the go if you are hungry.” Roy gestured towards the stovetop, slinging his rucksack onto the dining table.  
  
“No, I’m alright…” She glanced around the small kitchen, eyes darting. It was small, with an archway leading off to a living room, and a staircase twisting upwards. Her gaze fell to the pile of clean dishes awaiting sorting, and the large pot of food on the stove top that smelt _so_ good. The layer of photographs and letters that covered the refrigerator, topped with bright post-it notes of reminders. A young Roy beaming at her from a battered photo frame on the microwave, hair slicked back and school uniform pristine. The pile of mismatched clothes high in the basket, perched on end of the ironing board. Magazines and odd nicknacks scattered across the living room adjoined to it, with colourful throws and pillows scattered about. The over-full hangers at the back of the door, jackets and scarves fighting for space, and the shoe rack that spilled out onto the floor. 

And she felt a painful, sudden yearn for _everything_ this was; a longing she couldn’t place, a jealousy she couldn’t name, for the warmth the room exuded and the _love_ that the clutter of family life around her screamed. An overwhelming desire to drag her father here, and show him everything that he had denied her. _This_ was what a home was supposed to look like. Not evening meals alone, and dusty, empty spare rooms that never saw the light of day. The intensity of her sudden revelation left her reeling; she hadn’t come here to suddenly confront her upbringing or her father’s questionable parenting, yet it here it was, straight in front of her.  
  
“It isn’t really much compared to Casa del Hawkeye, I know, but it’s home.” She looked back to find Roy’s dark eyes on hers, and the flicker of pride in his voice was more than evident.

“Actually…” She licked her lips, nervous. “I was just thinking how much more lovely this is than _Casa del Hawkeye.”_ He raised an eyebrow, curious, and she continued, glancing at him sheepishly. “My house is bigger, you are right. But it’s empty. Cold. Dark and dingy. This…this is a home. A home with a family. A home with a lot of love in it.”

  
“Oh…” Her words dawned on him, and his face fell, the true meaning of what she was saying obviously painful to him. He had seen her _family,_ or the lack of it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”  
  
“You are fine.” She shrugged, giving him an innocent smile. “Part and parcel of being the daughter of a reclusive genius with a dead wife.” He fell silent, and for once, looked genuinely lost for words. _Maybe the dead wife bit was too much._ “Don’t you have sisters? It’s quite for a busy house.”  
  
“The girls will be out for a while." He jabbed his finger towards a heavy door behind her, from which Riza realised she could hear the sound of music playing, the steady beat of whatever song was playing thumping away in the background. “Friday nights are busy around here. Although, my aunt might make an appearance. Security system will tell her there’s someone up here, she’ll be skulking around someplace.”

“Don’t sound so overjoyed at the thought.” The gruff voice behind her made her jump, and as she spun around, Riza was suddenly face to face with the same kind eyes that she had grown so very fond of on Roy, only on a much larger ( _and much more intimidating)_ scale. The woman towered above her, as broad as she was tall, heels elevating her even further, with masses of dark hair that curled down her back, and a face full of makeup, that creased in a smile as her eyes met the younger woman’s.  
  
“You must be Riza.” She could only nod response, and the older woman chuckled, looking her over. “It is lovely to finally meet you. Roy’s not stopped talking about you.”  
  
A quick glance over to the now pink-faced Roy told her this was the truth, and she felt her own embarrassment grow, straightening her top. “All good, I hope, Mrs Mustang.”  
  
A gruff laugh was her response, as Chris tutted. “Mrs Mustang was my mother. It’s Chris. And as if he could say anything other than good.”   
  
“Oh…sorry… _Chris_.” She shuffled, nervous and uncomfortable, and Chris laughed once more, this time kinder.

“You’ve lost power?” She nodded, hands still fidgeting with the hem of her jumper, and the kind smile on the other woman remained as she spoke again. “Never been a fan of the dark, myself. I don't blame you." And it was amazing how just those words, so perfectly placed, lifted a weight off her shoulders, and she felt herself begin to relax. "You don’t need to stand on ceremony in here. We don’t care much for formalities.You are welcome anytime, and I expect you to make yourself at home. Any friend of Roy’s is part of the furniture here, never mind a girlfriend. He’s never brought a girl home before, we’ve all been waiting for the day. Although, the girls may bombard you a little tomorrow morning. They’ve got some good stories they could tell you, though. ”  
“Are you quite finished?”  
  
Chris rolled her eyes, turning to the huffing Roy, who had gone from sweet-pea pink, to crushing crimson in a remarkable time. “Am I embarrassing you, Roy-boy?”

“I just don’t think Riza needs to hear all of this on her first meeting with you. Besides, don’t you have a bar you’re supposed to be tending?”  
  
The raised eyebrow told Riza that Chris saw through the feeble excuses he had tried, but she gave in nonetheless, glancing back towards the heavy door and stairs down to the bar. “Mh, you are reprieved for now. It’s been busy tonight. Had your friend and his father in again.”  
  
The change in Roy was instant, and his voice was a snarl. “Kimblee? Again? You should’ve said, I-“  
  
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, don’t worry yourself.”  
  
“But you know that I said I’d deal-“

“Roy-boy.” The firm insistence in her voice was clear, before shes nodded towards Riza. “Go and enjoy your evening.” His stare turned into a defiant scowl, but Chris dismissed him with a wave of her hand, disappearing through the heavy door. “Riza, clip him over the ear if he misbehaves. I find it works well.”  
  
“She treats me as though I am five years old.” Roy’s huff matched the scowl that remained on his face, staring after his aunt long after the door had closed.  
  
“You aren’t?” Riza feigned innocence, Roy’s scowl dropping as he pulled a face.  
  
“ Har, har.” He kicked off his shoes, adding them to the behemoth pile, before beckoning her to follow him, trudging up the narrow staircase, Riza following after him, pausing on the first landing to glance down the hallway. Fairy lights strung the length of the dim hallway, and clothes were scattered across the hallway, a mixture of perfumes in the air. “That’s the girls’ domain. You don’t want to be going down there. Last person that did didn’t come back.”  
  
“I _am_ a girl, in case you failed to notice.” She glanced down again, before following him again up the stairs. “You don’t live down here?”

“Nah, my room is on the top floor. Peace and quiet, away from the chaos.” They climbed another set of stairs, this time to a much smaller corridor, and Roy neatly kicked a large oak door open, gesturing for her to follow him before kicking the door shut again. A large double bed filled most of the room, tucked up against the corner well, and a desk took up the other side, piled high with books and notes, Riza recognising many of the books as her father’s. Posters covered the walls, a mixture of music and of sport, and an overlarge TV balanced precariously on top of wooden dressers at the end of the bed.  
  
“It’s much tidier than I was expecting.”

“Ha! Excuse you.” Roy stuck his tongue out, before flopping down onto bed, patting the space next to him. “Well, since I don’t have to go back to work. Are you gonna join me then? I’ve got every movie you could want to watch. I’ll even throw in free popcorn. Or do you want me to take the sofa downstairs after all?”  
  
Riza giggled, kicking her shoes off and dropping her own bag to the floor, before sliding onto the bed next to him, curling into him as he wrapped an arm around her. “I suppose I can’t have you sleeping on a sofa when there’s _so_ much room here.”

“How very thoughtful of you. Letting me have my own bed. Or is that just because you’re afraid of the dark?”  
  
“ _Maybe_ the sofa is a good idea after all…”

“Touchy, aren’t we?” The sing-song tease in his voice drove her mad, but she refused to bite, lest he know just how easily he could get under her skin. She remained tight lip, the earlier conversation in the kitchen still in her mind.

“What your aunt said…about Kimblee…” She felt him bristle at the change of topic, at the name, and part of her instantly regretted bringing it up at all. The laughter in his face disappeared, replaced by a stoic frown.   
  
“Like she said. Nothing she can’t handle.” He forced a laugh that did not meet his eyes. “My aunt can be more intimidating than all of the men that walk into that bar. Seriously, you don’t want to get on her bad side. If she says she has got it in hand, then it’s definitely _in hand_.” He looked at her, the feigned laughter falling away at her persistent gaze, dark eyes growing serious and a defeated sigh slipping from him. “Fine. They’re a royal pain in the backside.”

“That goes without saying.”  
  
“The Kimblees are extremely wealthy, as I’m sure you’ve gathered by now. _Zolf_ is just next in a long line of millionaires. His father is a hedge fund banking, politics dabbling, city sleazing millionaire. He’s on the city council too, some big wig in the world of money and corruption.”  
  
“Again, I cannot say I am surprised.” That earned a chuckle from him, and he relaxed somewhat as he spoke. 

“The girls that live here, most of them came here because they couldn’t stay where they were. There’s a lot of assholes in this world…controlling men who get their extra shot of testosterone by pushing women around. My aunt, she started there, running away from an awful situation, and to cut a long story short, wanted to give help where she felt it was lacking. She ended up taking girls in, and getting them a job at the bar she worked at. The woman that ran it, she had done it for her, as a refuge for women who needed somewhere to go, and a way to make money. We aren’t a brothel,” he cut in, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “there is a firm ‘look but don’t touch’ rule, not unless one of the girls particularly decides otherwise. My aunt decided she wanted to do the same, to provide the same opportunity to the women who needed it. But obviously, a bar and somewhere to stay in a large city such as Central is expensive.”

Riza nodded, the pieces beginning to knit together in her head. “So she needed a loan?”  
  
“Something like that. Obviously, most banks wouldn’t touch the idea with a bargepole, so she had to look elsewhere, and that is where the _generous_ Kimblee Senior enters. Anything to get the scourge of young, penniless women off the streets of Central.” The flicker of sarcasm intertwined with every word.

“So your aunt is in debt to them?”

  
“Mhm. And when you raise the interest rate and play God with someone’s livelihood, the debt only increases. He likes to come in from time to time, to _remind_ us how grateful we should be for his bloody money, and to demand his _share_. It’s why _Zolf_ takes such great pleasure in rubbing it in my face. He knows his father could have us out on the street with a snap of his grubby fingers. Of course, if the Amestrian government believed in supplying the good people of this country with a decent welfare system, rather than rewarding corruption and funding their expansion plans, it wouldn’t be as much of a problem.”

Silence fell as Riza processed what he had said, brows knitted in concentration. The animosity between the boys was more than understandable now, and her loathing of _Zolf J Kimblee_ seemed to grow with each passing moment. 

“That’s why I need to make something of myself.” He was no longer speaking for her sake, his eyes someplace distant, the usual cockiness absent and replaced by the quiet, vulnerable voice of a young man being forced to play a move in someone else’s game. “To pay them off and get rid of them, for her. And for the girls, they’re like sisters to me. It doesn’t have to be millions, just enough. And then I’ll change it for everyone else, bring in welfare and support, build better housing and create jobs and opportunities for those that need it, and clear out the corruption that seems to have ensnared our government.” He stopped, suddenly realising that she was still watching him, and the pink tinge of embarrassment from earlier returned. “Well…that’s what I dream I’d do, anyway. I know that it sounds like a child’s dream.”

“I think it’s a wonderful dream.” His eyes seemed to light up at her affirmation, and a shy smile crept onto his face. “I think it’s just, and fair and… _right_. Plus, it’s nice to see you so passionate about something.” She paused to think, mulling over her words before she spoke “You know, my father…well, you’ve seen the house. He doesn’t exactly use the money that he has and I am the sole heir to the entire thing. There’s a lot of it sitting in a bank account-”

“No.” The stark response caught her by surprise, and she immediately balked at his response.  
  
“Why not? It’s better being put to good use than sitting in a virtual account!”  
  
“Because that’s your money. For you.”

“So surely then it is mine to do with what I see fit then?”  
  
“Oh, absolutely. But if you gave me it, I’d give you it back. Over, and over, and over again. Even if you gave it all to me, it’s still _your_ money.” He was smiling, and the casual dismissal annoyed her more than she had expected. “Your money is not for paying off _my_ debt.”

“Well, if we are being as picky, it isn’t _your_ debt.”

“Mh, but it is.”  
  
“Double standards, I see. You are so _pig-headedly_ stubborn, do you know that?”  
  
“I prefer tenacious, personally.” He curled a strand of her hair between his finger, eyes fixed as he twisted it. “If you want something in life, you earn it. That’s how I was raised.” Her favourite little smirk spread across his face. “I wanted your approval and I earned it, didn’t I?”  
  
“You are _earning_ my approval, Mr Mustang. It’s an ongoing project.” She felt the annoyance begin to melt away, and cool acceptance of his stubborn reply replace it. _So the studying wasn’t about showing off after all._ _It wasn’t even about getting to her._ _This was something much bigger_. The realisation made her heart swell, and she felt herself instinctively moving closer to him, snuggling into the warmth of him. “You’re a good person, you know, Roy. Not such an ugly, arrogant pig after all.”  
  
“But still cocky?” The very tone of his voice answered that one.  
  
“I reserve my judgement. But you have a big heart, most importantly. All that scowling and smirking is just a clever facade and you aren’t fooling me. Not after that ambitious speech just now. ”  
  
“Well, it is family first, isn’t it?” He lay back with a lazy sigh, ease returning once more. “You do anything for the people you love, that’s the golden rule.”  
  
Riza leant on her elbows, raising an eyebrow. “Is it now? Well, lucky for those you love, mh? To have someone so passionately believe in that.”

He chuckled at her words, and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head, lips tickling her ear as he replied. “ You should know by now, I’d do anything for you.”

She hummed at his words, a mixture of delight and surprise, and raised large eyes to meet his gaze. Something unspoken passed between them; a mutual understanding as the last of her inhibitions seemed to melt at his words, as the trust she had so fiercely kept for herself began to slip from her fingers. She met his lips with her own, delicately at first, but quickly growing heavy, and she broke free to bring a finger to the soft stubble of his top lip, halting him in his tracks. “Anything for me?”  
  
He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Anything.”  
  
“ Well…turns I’m hungry after all. That stew smelt nice.” She giggled Roy’s annoyed huff, shifting as he pulled himself from her, and from the bed, muttering under his breath as he headed towards the door. “You did say anything!”

 


End file.
